Jorja & Malcolm (Toffee Kisses Book 1)

by Shelley Siddall

  “Oh cool! Let me write myself a note on this page. There. Now here’s the next design. I call it Bollywood meets Romany!” Surinder said excitedly as she turned the page.

  Norma had indeed been able to get an appointment with Maureen and had thoroughly enjoyed her morning of pampering.

  “Have you ever been bored of yourself?” she asked Maureen.

  The hairdresser was expertly using the straight iron on Norma’s now very short and very red hair.

  “Of course! That’s why I change my hair colour and style practically every week. My hubbie says it’s a good thing I still have my name tag on when I come home from work, or he wouldn’t recognize me!”

  Norma gently laughed. “But really, Maureen, I’m so boring. I have the personality of tapioca.”

  “I like tapioca! It’s so sweet and has such an interesting texture.” She gave Norma’s hair a final fluff and said, “Now, let me spin you around and you tell me if this is a boring woman!”

  Norma looked at herself in the mirror and jumped out of her chair. She put her nose close to the mirror and flipped her head from side to side. She put her hands on her hips and looked seductively over one shoulder then the next.

  “Now I need to go get me a man!” she said as she continued to pose.

  “Ooooh, where are you off to next?” Maureen asked conspiratorially.

  Norma paid her bill while leaving a generous tip.

  “The Glenrosa Nursing Home,” she said. “A fine selection of eligible bachelors there; unfortunately most require a few naps during the day and many are in bed before eight.”

  “Which, in some circumstances, may not necessarily be a bad thing,” Maureen giggled.

  Norma smirked; shook her head in a pretense of disgust; caught her image in the mirror and started shaking her head in earnest.

  “I feel so alive!”

  “I wish I was dead,” said Anthony as Malcolm drove him home. “I mean your Mrs. Beetle was a hoot, until she started snoring.”

  “Women in their nineties with a couple of strong drinks under their belt tend to do that,” Malcolm said. “But what’s your problem?”

  “I still don’t know what to do with my life. I was expecting wise words of wisdom from Mrs. B, but apparently she turned into a party animal when she heard about you and Jorja.”

  “Didn’t Mrs. B give you a bag of something?”

  Anthony brightened. “She sure did! A whole bag of paint by number matadors on black velvet! They’re so trashy, they’re marvellous! And because I’ve never painted before, they are going to be so bad! My roommates are going to freak when they see them hanging on the wall!”

  Malcolm pulled up to Anthony’s apartment. “Maybe that was her advice? Keep busy. Get a hobby.”

  Jorja was thinking about toffee. Specifically, the lingering taste of toffee. Nope. Nope. She shook her head; work to do first. She stopped by the pool and bought a pair of pink swimming googles and then drove Periwinkle over to Regency Place.

  “I couldn’t understand you on the intercom. You said you have a prezzy for me? What’s a prezzy?” asked Mrs. Bassett.

  Jorja pulled the googles out of the bag. “A present for you. You can wear these when you go to Aquacize at the pool.”

  Mrs. Bassett blushed and graciously accepted the plastic googles. She held them so tenderly and stared at them as if they were fashioned by Fabergé.

  “No one has given me a present for so long! Thank you so much! Have you had lunch yet? Join me for cottage cheese and raw carrots?”

  Jorja flinched at the menu. “I do like food,” Jorja reminded herself while she wondered what the pinging sound was.

  Mrs. Bassett shouted, “It’s the girls calling me! Oh what’s happening?” she said as she raced to her laptop.

  “Hi Darlings! Nana here. How come you’re not at school?”

  Two beautiful smiling girls filled the screen. “Summer school lets out early, Nana. We just phoned to say hi before we go swimming.”

  “I’m a swimmer too!” said Mrs. Bassett. “Look!” she said as she put the googles on and grinned at her granddaughters.

  “Silly Oh-baah-sahn,” the girls said, as they laughed uproariously and signed off.

  Mrs. Bassett suddenly seemed deflated and took her googles off.

  “I don’t feel like eating, I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

  Jorja thought of the leftover pie at home. Then she thought of little Mud Pie Newsome and smiled. “Oh, that’s fine. I had a big breakfast with Norma. I wonder how her hair turned out.”

  Mrs. Bassett settled into her easy chair. “Well, truth be told, anything would look better that her current hairstyle. It looks like she stuck her finger in a light socket for heaven’s sake!”

  It was Jorja’s turn to feel deflated. She got up to go but Mrs. Bassett wanted to show her the apartment where Amanda Sinclair stood naked every Saturday morning.

  “See, I think it’s that one with the blue curtains. Or is it the next one?” Mrs. Bassett wondered as they stood on the balcony.

  “No,” said Jorja, it’s not the one with blue curtains because that’s my boyfriend’s place…”

  Just then, a woman stepped out onto a balcony. She stepped out of the blue curtains onto Malcolm’s balcony. She was fully clothed and had a fistful of something in her good hand. Her other hand was bandaged, but she still used it to wave.

  “There she is! My buck naked Saturday morning woman! And her a married woman,” Mrs. Bassett said with pursed lips.

  Jorja set her jaw. “I was feeling great all day and now I feel like white open toed shoes after Labour Day.”

  As she raced out into the hallway she screamed at Malcolm, even though he wasn’t there, “I trusted you; I looked up to you!”

  Jorja smacked the elevator button but she couldn’t wait. She ran down four flights of stairs and out the front door of Regency Place and over to the Royal Towers apartments.

  Jorja sailed in the lobby door as Betty Boothe was walking out. “I like your dog but I don’t like you!” she shouted as she ran up two flights of stairs.

  She arrived at Malcolm’s door breathless. She stopped for a second and considered knocking, then said aloud, “Screw that noise,” and threw open the door.

  Malcolm was pleasantly surprised when Jorja burst into his living room. He held out his arms to her, but she pushed him away and ran out to the balcony.

  Amanda turned and looked at Jorja, and she too held out her arms to Jorja. “Jorja! How nice to see you again! I finally realized this morning whose boyfriend lived next door to my…”

  “Boyfriend?” Jorja was even more livid and she stomped back into the living room to confront Malcolm.

  “Mister Newsome! What do you have to say for yourself? Here I’m believing all this garbage about ‘oh I love being with you because you don’t hide what you are’. Well what about you, Mr. Newsome? Here you are rebounding with Suzy and we’re supposed to be going on our first official date…” Jorja stopped to catch her breath then sobbed, “tomorrow! And I was going to wear my blue bathing suit too.”

  Just then, the twins and their Dad walked into the living room.

  “That’s a nice set-up you’ve got there,” Dustin said as he looked over at Amanda. “Say Mandy, maybe we can make a weight room downstairs at the flower shop. I mean, we’ll have the room”.

  “Dad, this is the frog talk lady we painted with,” said Maisy.

  Jorja slowly looked at Dustin and the twins then over to Amanda and finally stopped at Malcolm. She was confused.

  “You were rebounding while the twins were here? And their Dad?” she squeaked out.

  “Jorgie-girl, just stop,” said Malcolm softly.

  “The re-bounder is over at Mom’s,” Maisy informed Jorja.

  “It’s a mini-trampoline,” said Sasha.

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  Jorja pointed at Amanda and at Dustin. “You guys are married?”

  “Sure. Rig
ht now I live in the apartment next to Malcolm, but soon we are moving as a family to the old town site to run a business there,” Dustin said smiling at his wife.

  She smiled back and fanned her fistful of coupons. “Thanks for the coupons, Malcolm. I just couldn’t resist going out and giving that old gossip one more wave!” Amanda turned to Jorja. “But’s what’s this business about Suzy and rebounding?”

  Jorja smoothed her eyebrows. “I just stuck my foot in my mouth, big time.”

  Maisy elbowed her Sister. “I didn’t see it, did you?”

  Sasha shook her head. “Nope. It must happen so fast. I always miss it.”

  “Me too,” said Maisy sadly.

  Malcolm hugged Jorja tightly. “Jorja, what you’re thinking never happened. Your wonderful imagination has tripped you up again.”

  Jorja blushed and said “I’m sorry.”

  “You forgot a word.”

  “Sweetheart?”

  “That’s the one. Although, in the spirit of nothing to hide, I do have a confession to make. I bought the house next to your parents.”

  “I have a confession too. I like Nicholas Cage movies. A lot.”

  “That’s fine. I’ve been known to listen to Nickelback.”

  “I’ve been known to try and sing their songs.”

  Amanda moved next to Dustin and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “And then he kissed her?” Maisy asked.

  “And then he kissed her,” Malcolm said as he kissed Jorja.

  “When is she going to put her foot in her mouth again?” Sasha asked.

  Jorja and Malcolm started laughing.

  “Probably a lot sooner than she would like,” Jorja said.

  Chapter Fourtee:

  Or finally, their first date!

  “Hello my darling daughter, what have you been up to?”

  “Jumping. I’ve done a lot of jumping today,” Jorja said sadly as dabbed at her eyes. They had leaked all the way home from Malcolm’s.

  “Is this a Mom to the rescue moment or do you want to retreat to a corner and lick your wounds?” Jenny asked.

  “Retreat.”

  Jorja grabbed her much read ‘Parker Pyne Investigates’ off the shelf, curled up on the couch and travelled to 17 Richmond Street. Miss Stein came for a visit and quickly fell asleep with one paw resting on Jorja’s face.

  “I really can’t see the page with your fuzzy paw stuck up my nose,” Jorja muttered. Miss Stein noted Jorja’s concern by having a thoroughly luxurious stretch and thereby extending the offending paw further towards Jorja’s nasal passages. The cat curled up again, knocking Parker Pyne to the floor. Jorja decided to pick it up in a couple of minutes. She just needed to rest her eyes first.

  Two hours later, Jorja woke up. She went out to the porch and found her parents finishing an early supper.

  Crawford waved a forkful of Mac ‘n Cheese at her. “How are your feet, my dear?”

  Jorja frowned. “They’re just fine Dad. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I heard you spent the day jumping. Jumping to conclusions from the way I heard it!”

  Jorja groaned, “I would like to have at least one secret from you guys in my life; just one! How did you hear about my dismal display of faulty logic?”

  “Next door neighbour told me,” her Dad said.

  Jorja suddenly remembered that Malcolm said he bought the house next door.

  “He did not!” she exclaimed.

  “Sure he did,” her Mom said, “when he came over to borrow a can opener.

  Jenny looked around for Mrs. Stein before she laid her fork down.

  “That boyfriend of yours plods along for months and then suddenly he’s all turbo charged and after burners! He bought the house next door! I can’t believe it! But Jorja, did you actually accuse him of sleeping with Amanda?”

  Jorja turned red. She pointed to her face. “I think this answers that question,” she said sadly. “I’m so worried about the butterfly effect,” she added. “I stomped on his integrity.”

  “This one action will change the course of history?” Crawford asked.

  “Our history! What if my flinging accusations at him has caused him to…I don’t know…not want to pursue a life path with a paranoid delusional girlfriend?”

  “Perhaps you should ask him?” Jenny said pointing to the stairs.

  Malcolm was climbing up the stairs with an armful of red roses.

  “I know they’re cut flowers, but I had to get them. They always say “Say it with flowers, so I’m saying…”

  Jenny and Crawford quickly moved their plates as Malcolm dumped the roses on the patio table.

  “I’m saying, you’re my sweetheart, Jorja,” Malcolm said.

  Jorja gave a little smile.

  “What you lack in presentation you have more than made up for in sheer abundance of flowers,” she said as she looked at the dozens of roses haphazardly piled on the table.

  Malcolm grinned from ear to ear. He said, “Well you love to sit on the porch in the evening and look at the ocean. I thought we could place the flowers all around you; take a picture, and then your Dad could paint it.”

  Jorja gave Malcolm a big hug. “This is so romantical! Wait; I have a present for you too.” She ran in the house and returned with a Shop Easy Grocery Bag.

  “A pepper mill and a bag of toffee! I love it! Our No-name Detective Agency is back in business!”

  Jenny looked quizzically at Crawford. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Anyone want a peanut?” Jorja said happily as she ran back into the house.

  “How are your new digs?” Jenny asked while Crawford was looking for flower vases.

  “Really good! It’s so nice and cool in the basement; so I set up a futon there. However, there is a profusion of ivy wallpaper everywhere!”

  Jenny laughed. “Oh I know and it’s not like it’s one pattern; I think I counted four when I went over to help Darla with something.”

  “They even wall-papered the closets. But I’m not going to do anything until the house is officially mine. Darla and I signed all the papers today and now it’s a waiting game until everything is processed.”

  “Wise move,” Crawford said setting up the vases on the patio.

  Jorja returned wearing a simple black shift.

  “Here, let me re-spike your hair for you,” Malcolm said.

  He borrowed Crawford’s phone and instructed Jorja to think about her painting extravaganza at the Blackberry festival. She started to laugh and clapped her hands, then rested them under her chin while lost in happy thoughts. Malcolm took several photos and reviewed them with Jenny and Crawford.

  “That is going to be a beautiful painting!” Jenny said.

  “Just like the one I did over 24 years ago, if I do say so myself,” Crawford agreed.

  Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

  “Go look at the tea trolley inside,” Crawford instructed.

  Malcolm went inside and was gone for some time. He came out wiping his chin.

  “Gotta go; big day tomorrow.”

  He gave Jorja a quick kiss then walked the pathway to his new home.

  “Can we talk about you yet, or can you still hear me?” Jorja yelled.

  “I can still hear you, give me a minute!” Malcolm yelled back.

  Parmella had finally gone home. As much as Surinder loved her, she hated feeling indebted to her big Sister. Especially since Parmella had a tendency to remind Surinder constantly of all the things she did for her and would be doing. Cydney had popped down to her office earlier, saying she had a couple of things to do, so Surinder was finally alone. She looked outside and realised something earth shattering. She really didn’t want to be alone!

  Carefully Surinder walked slowly down the stairs to the shop. She could hear Cydney talking on the phone in her office, so she thought she would just wait outside. She suddenly could hear Cydney’s side of the conversation clear as a bell.

  “Bob, Jorja was ju
st so lovely about the whole thing. Mind you, she did phone me at two in the morning to thank me! What a girl! What is it with her and two in the morning? Yes; that’s when she decided to come into the world twenty four years ago. That’s right; after 12 hours labour our daughter came screaming into this world!”

  Surinder’s jaw dropped open. Cydney had a daughter? A grown up daughter? Surinder squinted her eyes. This just might be a handy piece of information to keep on the down low for now. The pregnant teen slowly climbed up the stairs hoping she could do it quietly. Keep talking Bob, she thought.

  Jesse Spelunker was shaking his head and reciting a litany of dietary infractions as the Corrections Officer was processing his release papers. “And your so called meat that I’ve had in the last 24 hours? Hah! I’ve probably lost most of my muscle mass already, and I don’t even want to think about the changes to my digestive system.”

  “Feel free to use another hotel on your next unplanned visit to our fair city,” said the Corrections Officer.

  “Sarcasm? I pay my taxes and this is what I get? Sarcasm from my public officials?” Jesse ranted.

  The Corrections Officer stopped writing, leaned towards Jesse and looked him in the eye.

  “Do you really pay taxes?” he asked.

  Jesse sniffed. “Point taken,” he said.

  For some reason, the Matador was on his tippy toes and stabbing his cape. Anthony didn’t mind. His pain meds had kicked in and he was delicately filling in the orange highlights on the red cape.

  “This paint by numbers is pretty easy,” he said to the empty apartment.

  He was about to turn on his playlist; but remembered he had danced to most of those songs.

  Anthony addressed his Matador. “Don’t look so smug buddy, you could get gored by a bull one day and then what would you do for a living? You couldn’t really outrun a bull in a wheelchair could you?”

  An image of Bette Midler as a mermaid floated up in Anthony’s mind.

  “But I could dance in a wheelchair!” he said.

  The Matador was doubtful.

  “Oh yes I could!” argued Anthony. “Did you see Mrs. B cruising around in her chair today? And even old Joe was rocking it!”